Sabretooth: The Biggest Baddest Meanie
by MorganOfTheFey
Summary: Marie gets a little bit too tipsy at a party when Logan stands her up again, and none other than Victor Creed takes her home to sleep it off. But when she asks him to stay, then accidentally has a wet dream about him that interrupts their "totally platonic" cuddles, things get both heated and complicated ... (ROCTER, rated M for graphic sex, both Logan and Jean bashing)
1. Chapter 1

Victor Creed. That's all anyone talked about. He showed up two months ago, had a five hour long conference with the X-Men, another hour of one-on-one with the Professor, and then suddenly became the new World History teacher. The students of the mansion collectively lost their shit. The teachers kept up a calmer front, but they were pretty freaked out about it too. After all, Sabretooth, _the Sabretooth_, was now handing out detentions and asking to see hall passes.

And of course everyone wanted to know if I was okay. Did I feel safe? How was I coping? Should I have an escort?

An escort. They wanted to give me a goddamn bodyguard. I think that was what pissed me off the most. First of all, everyone knew that if anyone was going to follow me around and "guard" me, it would be Logan, despite the fact that we weren't exactly on speaking terms. Second, it was hypocritical of them to reassure everyone that Victor had changed and they'd worked out an agreement, the Professor would be monitoring him, nothing would happen, blah blah blah, but oh wait Marie needs a bodyguard just in case he snaps and decides to start murdering people with a stapler.

Although I had to admit, I did like the idea of Logan being my escort. I almost agreed with that idea just so I could act like he was my personal call girl, booty boy, prostitute.

Did I mention I'm really mad at Logan?

Another thing I should probably explain is how I feel about Victor Creed. Everyone expected me to hate him or at least be afraid. Be very afraid. I wanted to roll my eyes every time I got a lecture from one of the teachers about staying safe and away from him. I wouldn't say I was completely comfortable around him at first. Maybe I was a little afraid that first week or so. But that had faded to a feeling closer to wariness—an acknowledgment that he could kill me and everyone else in a five mile radius, but knowing that wasn't likely to happen without a damn good reason.

What the others didn't know, what I hadn't told even Logan, was that the big bad Victor Creed had given me his life force to make sure I survived Magneto's machine. Granted, he was the one who strapped me in there in the first place, but he had his reasons for that too. And when he'd touched his bare skin to mine, I hadn't just gotten his healing factor like he expected. I absorbed all his memories, thoughts, and feelings too.

That was one more secret I hadn't told Logan … or Victor.

When I first woke up after the events of the Statue, the two of them were fighting in my head. I couldn't concentrate, could barely even think. I spent three days in bed. Everyone thought I needed the time to recover from my near death experience.

Which leads me to yet _another_ one of my secrets. I didn't have a near death experience. I actually died. I really, truly died—as much as Logan and Victor die when their bodies shut down, their hearts stop, and they don't breathe. But they always come back. They don't have any memory of the other side, but their medical files have confirmed that their bodies die before a spark of something brings them back. That's what happened to me on the Statue of Liberty. The machine killed me before Logan got to me. I was dead, my mutation couldn't activate to take his, but Victor's could. Victor's spark of life brought me back enough that my skin could take Logan's life energy and heal me fully.

"I'm really just not scared of him," I said as I put in my right earring.

Across the room, Jubilee scoffed. I hadn't told her the full story, so she didn't understand. I didn't expect her to, but I wished that she could just take my word for it. She was supposed to be my best friend. If she told me she trusted this guy and swore she had good reasons to but couldn't explain it to me, I would accept that. Not to say that I would trust him, but I would at least trust her judgment. I put up with Remy for Christ's sake.

"Okay, sure," she said in a flippant voice. "But did you really have to invite him to your art show?"

I scowled at the mirror. "Well, I wanted at least someone to show up."

"Hellooo," she waved at me. "I'm right here chica, and I'll be there."

"That's not—"

"I know what you meant. And I'm telling you, Logan will totally be there," she said, coming up behind me to fix a stray piece of hair. "This event has been on the calendar for _months_. He even came back from his angsty broody wandering a week early."

I watched her fuss over me and tried to lighten my sour expression so I didn't ruin my makeup. It had taken her two hours to put it on, and I did not want to go through that again.

"Then where is he now?"

"There!" Jubilee ignored my question and triumphantly fluffed my hair. "You look perfect. He'll show up, so no frowning!"

I sighed and hoped she would be right.

Jubilee wasn't right. Victor had been the one to drive me there in his fancy car, and he escorted me into the gallery, and he stayed firmly focused on me all night long despite the other X-Men's not so subtle worried glances and attempts to separate us. I appreciated them coming out to support me, but after an hour, I was already trying to figure out a way to politely tell them to fuck off.

"You need me to hold someone down for you, Stripes?" Victor asked me in a low voice.

I looked over at him and tried not to blush by concentrating on how much Scott annoyed me. The Logan in my head agreed until he realized I was focusing on Scott so I didn't accidentally slip up and let my attraction to Victor show. He got real pissy after that and retreated into his mental corner to sulk. It wasn't my fault Victor's voice was so deep and smooth with the barely restrained promise of violence.

"You could get me another drink that doesn't … " I looked at my champagne glass with distaste. "Bubble."

The older feral let out a low chuckle that was downright sinful. I quickly drained my glass, despite literally just complaining about it. I needed whatever liquid courage I could possibly get to keep standing next to the hottest man in the room.

"All right doll, I gotcha," he practically purred at me.

I flushed with indignation at the way he leered when he called me doll. When he turned around to walk away, a sudden burst of temporary insanity overtook me, and I smacked his ass in retaliation. Then I immediately realized what I'd just done and whirled around to stare intently at the other side of the room. I expected to feel a clawed hand on my shoulder or hear a pissed off growl at any second, but nothing happened to me.

"Oh my fucking gawd, chica!" Jubilee appeared at my side with a horrified look. "Did you just slap Sabretooth's _ass_?!"

I blushed even harder. "He called me 'doll' in that patronizing nineteen-forties voice of his!"

"Mon cherie," Remy called from across the room, beckoning to my friend.

"I'll be fine, go see your boyfriend," I told Jubilee.

"We'll write out your last will and testament," she said solemnly.

I made shoo-ing motions at her with my free hand, and she walked away, glancing back at me a few times along the way. I surveyed the other people in the room and sighed. Absolutely no sign of Logan. Coincidentally enough, Jean seemed to be missing too. Gee, I wonder if those two facts could somehow be related?

I turned around to see if Victor really was getting me a drink. He was much more intelligent than he allowed most people to see and also really funny, in a scathing sort of way. No one else talked to him outside of school or X-Men related stuff. As far as I knew, I was the only one to ever talk to him just for the sake of his company.

Granted, I may not have been so willing to chat him up if I actually had friends of my own who understood me. Jubilee was probably my best friend, but sh didn't understand a lot of things about me. Why I was so mad at Logan, why I wanted to take the Cure, why I never wanted to go on dates. I'd like to see her try to figure out when the appropriate time was to tell someone that they couldn't touch you without dying but you're still interested in a sexual relationship because your libido is still going full swing, maybe even higher than average due to the feral mutations you've absorbed and oh by the way, I also have about a dozen voices inside my head, do you want to get married in May or June?

"Your drink."

Victor's voice came from behind me without any warning. I jumped a little and bit my lip from yelping. When I spun around to glare at him, he grinned at me like the Cheshire cat and held out a tumbler to me. He must have circled all the way around the room to get behind me like that.

"You scared me on purpose," I said, although I did take the drink anyway.

His expression changed to that blank look he gave everyone else. It wasn't quite a scowl, but it did look a little bit angry. I thought hat might just be the default set of his face, after living through nearly two centuries of shit, shit, and more shit.

"Just trying to give you something else to think about," he said with a shrug. "Are you really mad about it, Marie?"

His body language, from the indifferent shrug to the way he held himself slightly apart from me, was meant to convey that he didn't care. But his words were spoken in a surprisingly soft tone. His eyes looked guarded. Like he didn't want me to see something in them.

"No," I said in an equally soft voice. "Um … was that scare your revenge for earlier?"

"I got you whiskey," he replied instead of answering. "That something you can handle?"

Again his tone stayed calm and non-confrontational. He sounded like he really was just checking to make sure I'd be okay with my drink. I wondered if he'd go back and get me another one if I asked for it. A dark, bad part of me wanted to reject it just to see if I could make him do it.

"This is good." I took a drink to show him. "Fuck, this is really good."

Victor smirked at my unintended profanity. "Did you think I'd get you something less than top shelf?"

I took another appreciative drink. "I think we should go commandeer the bottle."

He let out a laugh at that. The sound seemed surprised, and he cut it short as quickly as it started. I couldn't help but smile at him anyway. He had a nice laugh, even if it sounded unused. I wanted to make him laugh again. A real one that lasted until he had to rest his head on my shoulder.

In my daydream, we both lay in his bed together, me on my back and him on his side next to me. He laughed at something and leaned down press his chuckles into my neck. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and his body half-covered mine with warmth and safety. He whispered bad jokes and even worse puns into my ear, just like when we'd stayed up watching infomercials in the rec room until 3 AM because I'd had a nightmare.

Victor was controlling, possessive, and had almost no sense of ethics or morality to speak of. I was pretty sure that if a random person got hit by a bus right in front of him, it wouldn't even occur to him to care. But he damn sure cared about his family. I'd seen the way he stuck with Logan through snowstorms and sickness, giving his little brother his clothes and his food, freezing and starving so James would survive. Victor might be willing to do horrible things to people without a second thought, and his love for Logan might have turned into something fucked up and deadly over the years, but I knew for a fact that there was still a part of him that could be loyal and caring.

"Marie?"

Victor's hand touched arm. The gloves I wore went up to my elbows, leaving only a thin strip of skin between the sleeves of my dress. I looked down and noticed he was wearing black leather gloves too. Victor was the only person who'd never made a comment about my gloves. I suddenly realized maybe it was because he wore gloves to conceal his mutation too. With his claws covered, he could almost pass for normal.

"I'm just really tired," I said. "Emotionally. Like, I'm so glad my art got to be here and I'm really grateful and all, but I've been politely chatting with people _all night_ and … I'm just kind of people-d out, you know?"

He relaxed and nodded. "It's been three hours. No one will fault you for leaving. I'll call you a cab."

I reached out and grabbed his arm. "Can you take me home? Please?"

Victor searched my eyes for a moment, then slowly nodded. He let me drape my arm through his and led me through the crowd. It was bordering on packed, but people got out of the way for Victor Creed. I ignored the looks of the other X-Men and kept my eyes straight ahead while Victor escorted me out to his car. He opened the door for me, so I turned the heat on both our seats when I sat down.

We rode back to the Mansion in silence, and it was wonderful after the constant noise of the art gallery. Victor liked to talk more than Logan, but he still appreciated long stretches of silence and didn't tolerate meaningless chatter. If he spoke, it was important.

By the time we arrived at the Mansion, I'd dozed off leaning against the passenger door, and I wasn't too happy about being woken up. I think Victor tried to get me to walk on my own, but I clung to him like a needy octopus and demanded he carry me. Which he totally did. His arms were big and warm and strong. So was his chest. Those three adjectives might be a good description for all of his body parts.

_All_ of them.

I snickered into his shoulder and then lifted my head to nuzzle at his neck. I liked his stubble. It protected his skin from mine, so I got to touch him. I tried to rub my cheek against his muttonchops too, but he twisted his head to the side and growled at me to settle down. What a meanie. I bet he would totally like it if I scratched his muttonchops. He'd probably purr for me like a bit kitty cat. I giggled at that too and went back to sniffing his neck. What kind of cologne did he wear? I wanted to buy it, spray it on my sheets, and then just roll around in that scent.

"Marie."

Uh oh, that was his growly voice.

"You're talking out loud."

I lifted my head up to look at him. "Since when?"

"Since you called me a … " He looked down at me with an expression that was both amused and annoyed. "A meanie."

I burst into another giggling fit at that. He sounded so offended. I could imagine him grumbling in his head, _I am not just any meanie. I am the biggest, baddest meanie! I am Sabretooth, hear me roar!_

"All right, bed time for you, Stripes."

He laid me down on my bed, but then he tried to let go of me and leave. I clung to him tighter with a long cry of _nooooo_.

"Please stay?" I asked softly.

He clenched his jaw, and I knew he was gathering up strength to say no. So I hit him with my best big eyed look, the one that used to make Logan cave in seconds flat. Not anymore. I guess he stopped liking me when I stopped being a little girl.

**That ain't fucking true, and you damn well know it, Marie.** Logan's voice growled inside my head. **Don't you dare draw me as some kind of pedophile.**

_It's "paint." _I replied. _The expression is "don't paint me as a … blah blah blah." Not draw._

"Hey, you still with me?"

I blinked and saw Victor kneeled down on the floor beside my bed. His gloved hand carefully cupped my bare cheek. No one at the mansion knew why I sometimes paused and spaced out for a while. Jean and Xavier thought it was part of the trauma I went though, which was technically true. Every instance of getting a voice in my head had been traumatizing, and if those event hadn't happened, I wouldn't have another voice bothering me. The other students didn't even try to understand though, and my slightly enhanced hearing let me catch them calling me retarded when they thought I couldn't hear.

"I'm back now," I said.

I'd learned not to say _I'm okay_ to Victor. He could smell the lie in my scent and hear it in my heartbeat.

"Do you need someone?" he asked.

"You."

I knew he'd meant someone like Xavier or Hank. A mental or physical doctor. Maybe even a friend like Jubilee. But honestly, I just needed someone who would understand. I had a lot of bad memories of horrible things floating around in my head. That was part of the reason I connected so well with Logan. We both knew how horrible the world could be and broken people needed to stick together.

But he'd left me, literally and metaphorically. And I was dealing with that. No matter what nasty rumors people spread, I wasn't trying to replace him with Victor. Just because you lose a friend, that doesn't mean you can't ever make another friend again.

Even if I was interested in Victor in ways a bit more than just "friendly." But I was trying to deal with that too.

"All right." Victor finally resolved whatever inner struggle he'd been facing too. "Scoot over, princess."

I did so, but I still made a face at him. "Ew, keep trying. I think princess hits way too close to this family's daddy issues."

Victor sat on the edge of the bed and began taking of his shoes. I kicked off my heels and let them land where they may. My dress wasn't as cozy as pajamas, but I could sleep in it well enough. Said pajamas were all the way across the room in my dresser anyway, and then we'd have to go through the awkward situation of me trying to change without him seeing anything and would he have to leave the room or could I trust him to just close his eyes and what about my bare deadly skin and …

Ugh. Way too much hassle. I'd just sleep in my damn dress.

Victor got his shoes off and stood up to take off his jacket. "What about sweetie?"

"Nope. My dad used to call my mom that when he was real mad at her, so he'd say _sweetie_ but what he really meant was, _listen here you dumb cunt_."

"Sweetheart?"

"Nahhh."

I opened my eyes to see if he would undress anymore. Honestly, I was hoping he'd strip down to his boxers. I was wearing nude panty hose, a dress, and gloves that covered my whole arms. So if he wanted to just get naked … but no. All he did was untuck his shirt and get into bed, still wearing socks, pants, undershirt, dress shirt, and his own pair of gloves.

"Don't you wear a belt?" I asked. I hadn't seen him take one off.

"Don't like 'em, baby cakes."

I snorted and scooted over a bit more to give his massive frame some more room. "Why can't you just call me babe?"

"I'm not trailer trash, for one," he answered.

I flipped over on my side to look at him. "And for two?"

"Jimmy uses it."

"Ew." I scrunched up my nose. "Good call. Are you calling him trailer trash?"

He grinned, showing off his fangs. "If the wifebeater fits."

I laughed and snuggled up to him. He went a little tense for a second, but then he relaxed and didn't try to stop me. I yawned into his chest.

"Has anyone ever called you a snobby house cat?"

"No. Are you?"

"If the Armani fits."

"Hey, I killed a senator to afford this suit."

"Democrat or Republican?"

"Republican."

"Nice."

He snorted. "Should call you Streak instead of Stripes. 'Cause you got a mean one, little girl."

"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch," I mumbled in a highly clever retort as I fought to stay awake.

"Go to sleep, Marie," he murmured. "I'll watch over you."

Victor Creed was probably the type of guy who would watch me while I slept, and I should probably be concerned about that, but I just couldn't be bothered. I fell asleep dreaming of Cheshire cats and poor Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

* * *

**A/N: This is chapter one of the new Rocter, Victor x Marie, fic that I'll be putting up. I'll post chapter two on Monday, chapter three on Wednesday, and a NEW chapter NEXT Friday. This fic will update on Fridays, since Wednesdays are getting too busy for me to stick to that schedule like I tried to do for Virgins Don't Ask for It Doggy Style. Like that one, I'm hoping to finish this fic in less than twenty chapters, and really hoping to get it down to about ten. We'll see how that goes.**

**And while chapters two and three do have smut in them, chapter four will also be rated M, so if there's anything in particular you want to read about for Victor and Marie, let me know in a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Victor woke up to the sensation of falling. His reflexes kicked in, and he caught himself at the edge of the bed right before he would have hit the floor. He let out a low growl of extreme annoyance and surveyed the room. The one other sign of life was a heartbeat thumping behind him. A female voice made sleepy noises of discontent, and then ice cold feet slipped up the back of his untucked dress shirt to press against his lower back. He barely held in a yelp at the contact.

Marie held all the covers possessively, wrapped around her in a sort of cocoon. She'd curled up in a ball, her knees tucked up against her chest. The only part of her that stuck out was her feet. Said feet were currently seeking warmth, moving on from Victor's lower back to nudge at the back of his thighs and then attempt to push their way in between his legs. To be fair to her, his crotch was the warmest part of his body, and his morning wood was putting off a lot of heat.

The feral couldn't move away from her feet without falling off the bed, so he got up and stood at the edge to look down at her. She made more soft whining noises and stirred within her pile of blankets. When she reached out a hand and mumbled his name, Victor's will started to crumble. He meant to leave. Victor might be a killer for hire, but he was a self-aware killer for hire. He knew he didn't have any business getting into bed a woman who was kind and good.

A woman he'd almost gotten killed just to spite his brother.

But when she keened for him again, his inner animal demanded they answer her plea. Aside from Logan, she was the only person who had ever woken up his feral instincts like this. Everyone assumed Victor's need for and love of violence stemmed from his inner animal taking control. That Victor the man had fallen to Sabretooth the beast. But the truth was that the human part of Victor was the twisted side. Sabretooth just wanted what every animal did—a pack, a mate, and a home.

Between his father's torture and nineteenth century society condemning the young boy as a literal demon, Victor learned very early on in his life that none of those desires would ever be his. His whole life, it had been pounded into him—quite literally on many occasions—that he was a monster who didn't deserve to be loved and was incapable of loving in return. It didn't take long the human half of Victor to hate the animal half of himself just as much as everyone else did, more so even. The animal half was why he could never have a family or a wife or a home, and wanting those things he could never have made Victor vulnerable. That desire for love and acceptance was a weakness that he suppressed at a very young age, with his little brother as the one and only exception.

Marie was the first person other than James who touched that side of him, no matter how much Victor tried to fight it. And Victor was tired of fighting. As fucked up as the human half of him was, even he could admit that living without any friends or family for a whole eternity wasn't any existence worth living. He'd joined the X-Men just to get his brother back, without hope or desire for anything else. He hadn't expected _Her_ to be here, although it seemed obvious that she would be in hindsight. The animal reacted as strongly as it had the last time when it demanded they give her their healing and throw the fight with James so his brother could rescue her.

"Victor … "

Her voice brought him out of his inner struggle with the animal. He was losing anyway. He always lost when it came to her. She was strong, determined, and a survivor. She had to be, to have lived through being abandoned by her parents. Victor respected that she'd fended for herself on the streets as an adolescent barely out of her childhood, almost the same age he'd been when he took James and ran. Even now, after all she'd been through, after all he and James had put her through, she still stood tall and successfully pursued her dream of being an artist.

So Victor sighed and crawled back into bed with her. Marie made a happy noise and cuddled up to him. She still had on her dress and elbow-length gloves from last night, with nude pantyhose covering her legs. They didn't do a damn thing to obstruct his view though, as the hem of her dress had been pushed up to her hips. Victor ground his teeth together and laid as still as he could. She was the one person in the world he didn't want to hurt. James didn't count because as much as he loved his little brother, he wanted to pummel the ever fucking shit out of the bastard.

Marie loved him. Everyone knew it. With his enhanced senses, there was no way he could be oblivious to it. She listened to him when he needed someone to talk to and never pushed him past what he was willing to share. She made sure he ate and slept consistently. She was the one who waited for him to return when he left and supported him when he struggled with flashbacks, depression, and all around cynicism of the world. She was his best friend.

And what did he do with all that trust and love and acceptance? Fucking threw it away without a second thought. Left her with no warning and stayed gone for months at a time with no contact. Trampled all over her heart every time he blew her off or ignored her in favor of Jean. That woman was more full of lies and disappointment than a dollar store that sold everything at regular price, and Victor wouldn't be willing to pay a dollar for her anyway. She was arrogant and cruel to Marie, rubbing Logan's preference to her in the younger woman's face every time she got. Logan never seemed to notice or care, and continued to fuck the (married) woman who made his best friend's life miserable.

Brother or not, Victor wanted to rip his head off. That would make Marie sad though, and he found himself reluctant to do anything that might trouble or disappoint her. He compromised with his animal's desire to have her as their mate to be her friend instead. They would still protect and provide for her like his instincts demanded, but without the danger of being rejected by her. Because as much shit as Logan had done, Victor'd done ten times worse and enjoyed every second of it.

"Vic … "

"M'here, Marie," Victor murmured. "I got you."

She must be having a bad dream. Her heart rate had picked up and her cheeks were flushed. Victor rubbed one large hand up and down her back. Friends were allowed to do that, right? There wasn't anything sexual in the touch, and he was trying his best to ignore his half-hard cock. That was just from the morning. His arousal had nothing to do with her.

No matter how sweet she smelled.

Marie whined and shifted impatiently. "Victor … "

His hand froze, and she keened again from frustration. Her thighs rubbed together, and his eyes instinctively dropped to track the movement. She smelled soft and warm. He had never expected it, but now the scent of her arousal was unmistakable. He wanted to bury his nose in her curls, rub her wetness all over his lips and fingers and cock until he smelled like _her_. Until she pleaded with him, legs spread, back arched, fucking begging for him, no one else but him, calling out his name—

"Victor!" Marie gasped again in her sleep.

All of his perfectly good reasons for distancing himself from her broke under her cry for him. His mate needed something from him, and he was damn well going to provide it for her. For the animal roaring in his head, it was that simple. Victor nuzzled into the hair draped over her neck, but he braced both his arms on the bed and let his claws dig into the sheets. His animal demanded that he touch her, but he argued back that if there was even the smallest chance she didn't want him in reality, he could scare or traumatize her badly. At that argument, his other half backed down enough for him to regain some control. But by then, Marie was already waking up, responding for the low growl of need that Victor wasn't aware he'd started making.

"Vic?"

Her voice was much softer now that she had woken up. Maybe she had woken up. Marie wasn't sure if this was a dream or not. It certainly seemed too good to be true, the man she'd been dreaming about still in her bed, pressed against her, growling in a way that sounded like pure sex. She could feel his erection pressing into her thigh. Her dress had ridden up high enough that only her sheer pantyhose covered her legs, but he was still confined by his pants and boxers.

"I'm sorry!"

"M'sorry."

They both spoke at the same time, Marie's apology rushed and squeaky, Victor's apology more of a harsh mumble. He raised his head and looked down at her in confusion.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

She tried to avoid his eyes. "My skin."

"The fuck's that got to do with it?"

Marie frowned and shot him a suspicious look. "If it weren't for that … I mean, you ah," She shifted slightly against his erection. "Want me, and I want you. It's just that—you don't have to stay. It's all right, we can still be friends and I—"

"Hey, look at me." Victor dipped his head and forced their eyes to meet again. "What the fuck is all that about? Staying here for you ain't exactly a chore for me, Stripes."

"But we can't—" She stopped and bit her lip. "You deserve someone you can touch."

"If you want me to touch you, then I'll damn well touch you any way you like," Victor growled.

"My skin—"

He cut her off with a kiss. It wasn't deep or dizzying, more like he pressed his lips against hers and stubbornly kept them there. Almost like a mouth to mouth headbutt. But as Marie's skin turned on and the mental connection opened up between them, she absorbed his surface thoughts about the kiss.

Victor Creed had never kissed a woman before. As a teenager, he hadn't dared, not with his fangs and rough cat's tongue. Any good girl would have been terrified of him, called him a demon, had him burned at the stake. They did that once, a whole village of people come together to try to find a way to kill the monster they'd found. The memory of the girl who'd screamed in fear when she saw his claws, who'd brought that down on him, flickered through his and then her mind. But another thought quickly followed it, a deep-seated certainty that Marie wouldn't do that to them, not their sweet little mate who was everything warm and soft and safe.

It took Marie a moment to realize the first thought came from Victor the human, while the second was the animal trying to convince his stupid, bitter counterpart that _of course_ Mate wouldn't hurt them. Mate would never hurt them. Mate was the Goodness they got to make up for nearly two centuries of fear and anger and pain.

By the time she realized that, Victor pulled back from the kiss, unaware of how much of himself he'd just revealed.

"Not dead yet, am I?" he said with a determined set to his eyes.

Marie shook her head silently, too shocked by what she'd just accidentally learned to reply.

"I have an immortal goddamn healing factor for a reason," he continued. "And I can lick that sweet little pussy of yours through your pantyhose if you're that concerned about it."

Marie's brain shorted out. She was horny and maybe not fully awake yet, and a small part of her thought that would be bad for some reason, but she couldn't quite remember why when he put it like that.

"Please?" she gasped.

Victor complied immediately. He moved between her legs and bent down to rub his cheek against the inside of her thigh. His muttonchops tickled through her pantyhose, and she shivered. He could smell her arousal more heavily this close, and it was making him nearly dizzy with want.

"Say my name," he demanded in a rough voice.

"Victor," Marie squirmed under his gaze. "Victor, please."

It was the fourth or fifth time she'd said his name, but he couldn't get enough. He also didn't think he could stand it if she called out his brother's name. If she wanted or needed to imagine it was James touching her, he didn't want to know.

He smoothed his palms up her legs. Only his palms touched her, his fingers raised up as far as they would go so his claws wouldn't snag on her pantyhose. When he reached her waist, he watched her face carefully as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her pantyhose until they touched the lacy hem of her panties. The backs of his fingers touched her bare skin, but he kept the contact light and brief enough that she didn't drain him too much. His healing factor was already adjusting to the sensation anyway.

"Gonna have to take these off," Victor told her.

Marie nodded her permission, and he carefully used his claws to cut through both sides of her panties. Then he pulled on the scrap of fabric until it slipped through her thighs and out of her pantyhose. She watched with wide eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. Victor gave her a fanged smirk and tucked them into his shirt pocket. With just the lace showing, they almost looked like a fancy handkerchief. Marie blushed deeply, but she didn't protest. He would save those for later, when she was done with him and he needed something to keep the darkness at bay.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Again, Marie nodded. Victor reached a clawed hand between her legs and let one sharp nail brush over her wet lips, covered only with light curly hair and the sheer pantyhose. She stayed as still as she could and bit her tongue to keep from begging him. He let the pantyhose catch on his claw and then tugged until the thin fabric ripped. The hole let him gently touch the back of his finger to her wet heat without any barrier, but she jerked back.

"Don't!"

Victor froze. It felt like the blood in his veins had turned to ice, and he stopped breathing the moment he caught a whiff of the fear in her scent. He didn't even understand what he'd done wrong to scare her. He'd been so careful. Maybe it wasn't until he touched her—really touched her—with his clawed, blood soaked hands that she'd realized what she of monster she was allowing—

"I told you, my skin … " Marie stopped and screwed up her face in frustration. "I'll hurt you."

Victor blinked. "What. The. Shit."

"I'm not joking—"

He cut her off with a growl. "I've died more times than I can count, so even if the worst case scenario happens and your mutation kills me, then I'm damn well going to die with my face full of your fucking cunt, rutting into my own fist as you beg me to fuck you, and it will be _worth it_."

Marie whimpered, and he could smell how wet his declaration had just made her. Somewhere in the middle of his rant, his eyes had turned golden and they blazed down at her. Neither of them felt like they could get enough air, and Victor was sure his cock was going to break the zipper on his pants at any second.

"You have exactly three seconds to tell me you don't want that."

Marie couldn't speak if her life depended on it. She just wanted someone to touch her so badly, and that he might be someone sexy and fierce and her friend made it hard to believe this was all really happening to her.

"One," Victor counted.

Fuck, his mate looked so goddamn beautiful beneath him, chest heaving and her thighs slick with her own desire. He let the pause drag out to give her ample time before he even got to two.

"I want it," Marie finally spoke past the lump in her throat.

Victor stayed sitting on his haunches, staring down at her. She wasn't lying. She wanted him. He didn't move, too busy reveling in his victory. Her eyes narrowed with impatience, and he kept waiting just to torture them both. Pleasure always felt so much better after delayed gratification.

"Two," he said.

"I said I want it," Marie repeated.

Victor barely kept from smirking. "Two and a half."

Her mouth dropped open. "You—now you're just being mean?"

Victor shrugged and lifted his finger to his mouth. He held her eyes as his tongue licked over the wetness on it from touching her earlier. But as much as he wanted to savor the look of shock and aroused shyness on her face, his eyes squeezed shut when her sweet taste hit him. He couldn't hold back a loud purr or the way he lapped hungrily at his knuckle to get more of the taste. When he opened his eyes again, Marie's face was twisted up into a pout of sexual frustration. He wanted to rub his cock over her lips and fuck that look straight off her face.

"Two and three-quarters … "

* * *

**A/N: Here's chapter two, and if you hate me right now, remember that chapter three will be posted on Wednesday. So far I've gotten a request to play up Victor's "big kitty" side. I am 100% for his animal side being included in the smut. There just isn't enough puppy/kitten play in either the Wolverine or the Sabretooth fandoms. Which is like, why? They're literally perfect for that kink, so ... ? But don't worry, I'll fix that! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Ah swear to Gawd, Victor." Marie's southern accent had a tendency to come out when she got angry, and it went straight to Victor's cock. "Ah will—"

Victor dropped back to all fours, grabbed Marie's thigh, and hiked her leg over his shoulder. She went silent in anticipation, but that silence was quickly ruined by her loud gasp when he buried his face between her legs. Victor licked across the outside of her lips first, where she had short curls to protect her sensitive skin from his rough cat-tongue. Marie had known about the particular texture of his tongue, but the sensation still took her by surprise. She'd been a little worried that having a tongue down there—if that could ever be a possibility—would be too wet and slimy.

But Victor made slow progress moving closer to her wet center with careful licks. He didn't want to hurt his little mate by scraping such a sensitive area. She seemed to enjoy it though, if the way she bucked her hips up toward his face was anything to go by. He reached out blindly and grabbed her hand from where it gripped the sheets to place it in his hair instead. She tried to stop herself from yanking on his hair, but when his tongue made a light pass over her clit, her hand tightened involuntarily. Victor groaned at the slight burn of pain. The pain grounded him, made him believe this was real.

"Victor!"

Marie tightened her grip and squirmed beneath him when he dipped down to lick across her entrance, gathering her juices on his tongue to fully savor her taste. Her skin flickered on for a brief moment at that bare contact. It didn't hurt exactly, but it did feel like a sharp tug. Victor couldn't hold back a rough groan or the way his hips ground down into the mattress. Marie whimpered at how his groan vibrated against her sensitive skin. She got just a flash of his pleasure through her mutation, enough to let her know that he enjoyed the pain. Through her own haze of bliss, she gave his hair an experimental pull. Victor groaned again and rocked down against the mattress, his lapping turning sloppier.

"Vic … Victor?"

The question in her voice made him raise his head, eyes darkened with lust and his mate's wetness smeared across his chin. Marie felt like all the air had just been punched out of her lungs. She gave a needy whimper at the sight of Victor—predatory and hungry in a way that made her ache for him. A deep rumble made its way out of his chest in response, halfway between a growl and a purr.

"You want something, mate?" he asked, his voice almost a physical caress by itself.

"You're so beautiful!" Marie blurted out.

Victor blinked, all his muscles frozen up at the unexpected compliment. He didn't understand why she would say that. People shied away from him, women crossed the street, children cried. He knew he wasn't exactly ugly, but he was a monster. Not deserving of praise from someone who actually was beautiful and good.

"Can you … " She dropped her gaze and bit her lip.

Victor's mental order of the world righted itself once more. His mate clearly wanted something from him and that explained the compliment. She didn't realize that she didn't need to bother with flattery to get him to do his bidding, but he'd rather she not know how much control she already had over him.

"What do you need, doll?" he asked.

Marie blushed at the endearment, and then blushed even harder at the thought of what she wanted to ask him to do. She couldn't back down now though, so she might as well suck it up, look him in the eye, and ask for it. With that decision in mind, she met his gaze again, determined but still red-cheeked.

"Earlier you said—um, you said you'd touch yourself while you … with me." She took a deep breath before she took the plunge. "Will you do that?"

Victor cocked his head and slowly repeated, "You want me to … touch myself?"

Marie's face couldn't get much redder, but she stuck with it. "Y-yes. When my mutation turns on—since you won't _listen_ about how dangerous this is—I get your energy but also, um, I'm feeling your pleasure too. I didn't know, I mean, obviously this has never happened before so I had no idea that—"

Victor cut off her embarrassed explanation by ducking his head back down and returning it to its original position between her thighs. His tongue was even more insistent, now that he knew the skin-to-skin contact would bring her an extra level of pleasure. He hadn't expected to get anything out of this other than the obvious privilege of tasting his mate and being the one to bring her to orgasm, but what he'd said to her earlier was what he really wanted. With Marie's gasping moans fueling his desire, he reached down and practically ripped his pants open to get his cock out.

He touched himself the same way he'd touched Marie's pantyhose-covered legs: palm first with fingers straight out and slightly lifted up. Having razor sharp claws that never quite retracted all the way wasn't exactly conducive to tender touches, and accidentally gouging himself in the dick was something Victor had already experienced enough of for one lifetime. The only other alternatives were to find someone else willing to touch him, which translated to finding someone he could pay to get over their fear and disgust, or humping into his palm like an animal.

But fuck it all if he didn't enjoy being one with his mate grinding her cunt into his face and begging him for more.

Victor kept swiping his tongue across her clit, breaking the skin-to-skin contact for just a half second after each lick to let his mutation counteract hers in the brief respite. Marie kept a hard grip on his hair and yanked on it every so often. Each time she did, Victor growled and thrusted his cock down harder into his hand. His pleasure flowed into her through her mutation, and Marie's moans had turned into one long, nearly continuous cry. Between the physical sensation of having her clit so wonderfully assaulted and the half-formed mental images from Victor or perhaps even her own imagination—him taking her torturously slow doggy-style, one hand on the back of her neck to press her face down into the mattress with his other hand on her hip to force her to stay still as he fucked her too slowly for her to come, giving her just half his cock, wondering if he could make her come from those five inches and nothing else, knowing how good it would be, how much fuller she'd feel if he'd snap his hips forward and drive all ten inches into her until she fucking screamed from the force of her orgasm—

Marie screamed his name as she came, and that almost sent Victor over the edge too, but he held onto the last strands of his control with a desperate determination. How many more years, decades, centuries would it be before he had another willing female allowing him to touch her? He wanted to make this last as long as he could possibly draw this out.

So Victor nuzzled his cheek against the inside of her thighs and gave her soft licks to bring her down gently. Her hand in his hair had turned more gentle too. He paused long enough to lean into the touch, reveling in the sensation of having his face touched. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched his face without causing him pain. It had never occurred to him that could be a possibility. What reason would anyone have to touch Sabretooth's face if they weren't hitting him or pushing him away?

"Thank you, you're so amazing, so good to me," Marie mumbled out praise as she petted him.

A purr burst out of Victor's chest without his permission, but she didn't flinch away or tease him. Marie broke into a wide smile instead. Victor might be a remorseless killer, but with her, he was just a big kitty cat. She continued to stroke his hair for a few more moments before he went back to licking her again.

"Um, you don't have to—"

"Not done," Victor rumbled.

It didn't take more than a few licks to get her aroused once more. Marie had gone so long without touch and expected to spend her life celibate, so she was incredibly responsive to everything he did. Victor gave another purr when Marie stopped her half-hearted resistance and gripped his hair again. Her gasp of surprise turned into a needy whimper. The vibration from his purr was better than the groans he'd made before. As soon as Victor realized how much Marie enjoyed that, he closed his lips around her clit and purred even harder.

Marie cried out, her oversensitive clit sending pleasure throbbing through her. The press of his lips against her skin also opened the mental connection back up, which included both the gratification Victor felt from touching himself and the fantasies of everything he wanted to do with her. Making her come over and over again until his cock dripped with her wetness. Physical proof of how well he'd pleasured his mate, her scent and cum smeared across his skin, marking him. His sweet little doll spread out on the bed, made lazy and a bit drunk with sexual pleasure, beard burn scraped across her thighs and her pretty pink nipples, still reaching for him anyway and asking him so sweetly for just one more time.

"Yes," Marie gasped. "I'd lick you clean, after."

Her words hit him so hard, Victor almost forgot about his claws and gripped his cock. He didn't stop to think how Marie seemed to know exactly what his fantasy entailed. At the thought of his mate licking her own cum off his cock, his purring turned into a needy groan, and fucked himself against his palm faster. He was so fucking close to coming all over himself just from rutting against his own hand.

"Please, Victor," Marie bucked her hips up, right on the edge of coming herself. "Come for me!"

He'd pleasure her so well, satisfy all her needs like an Alpha should. And if he fucked her just right, she would lick his cock, groom him like he was her mate, reward him with her hot wet mouth for being such a good Alpha, touch him all over and tell him nice things, that he was a good boy good boy good boy.

Victor came hard, grinding his cock into the heel of his hand and mouthing at her sweet wet heat. His orgasm sent Marie over the edge too, her pleasure furthering his and his feeding into hers until they were both panting and exhausted. Victor recovered from the post-orgasmic haze first, but he stayed bent over her and carefully placed light kisses across her thighs and hips. He knew she would ask him to leave soon, and he wasn't ready to let go. Touching her like this had clearly been a mistake. He didn't know how he would ever let her go after this.

Marie blinked the wetness out of her eyes. She wasn't crying, but her eyes had watered up from how hard she came. The thought made her blush, but the thoughts she picked up from Victor made her frown and half sit up. He was always so arrogant and self-assured in his actions that it surprised her to realize how harsh his own opinion of himself was.

"Victor?"

Marie propped herself up on her elbows. Victor gave her a blank stare in return. He wasn't going to do some sort of pussy shit, like ask if they could cuddle or talk about their fucking feelings.

"Would you stay?" Marie asked.

Victor's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because I want you to."

He considered that for a long moment. Her heart rate hadn't sped up and her scent stayed the same—what he could pick up past the heady smell of both his and her cum. She wasn't lying about wanting him to stay. If he were a stronger or a better man, he'd walk away. He knew he wasn't good for her, but if she wanted him, he was greedy and selfish enough to stay.

"All right," he said. "Let me take care of this."

His cock was still hard and slick with cum, not softened in the slightest from the recent orgasm. One of the so-called "advantages" of such a strong healing factor, although Victor considered the difficulty of getting his cock to shut the fuck up and stop bothering him to be a special kind of torture. He pressed down on it, almost seeming like he was trying to shove it between his legs to hide it, which bordered on ridiculous given how large it was.

Marie sat up and reached for him. "Can I?"

Victor flinched back away from her. Just like his rough tongue, fangs, and claws, his mutation also manifested in the appearance of his cock. It had raised ridges circled around the shaft, vaguely reminiscent of the barbs that cats had on their penises. He was enough of a freak already, but having a mutated penis solidified him as a monster. No one wanted to touch that strange, terrifying thing between his legs. Not willingly. Not for free.

He shook his head. "Don't. I'll make it go away. Just give me a minute."

Marie didn't know if he meant a cold shower or … her eyes flickered down to his clawed hand pushing down on his flesh. Between his conviction that he was a monster and his insistence that pain meant nothing to him because he was a big strong stoic manly man and his healing factor would just heal any injuries anyway, she worried that his idea of "making it go away" might include hurting himself somehow.

She doubted he would believe her if she told him that his actions now were what counted, that she saw how hard he was trying to be a good person, to build a healthy relationship with his brother, to go to therapy and get his head figured out. It was a dark place, she knew. All her positive affirmations and reassurances that he was a real person who didn't deserve to be hurt would go straight over his head, or worse, make him think she was lying to him or mocking him.

So Marie took a deep breath and prepared to say something really fucked, something down on his level that he would be able to accept and understand. If she could just get him to stay and not hurt himself and maybe even allow her to treat him gently, then surely that end justified her emotionally manipulative means.

"I want to touch you," Marie said, starting off slowly.

She hoped he would hear the truth in her voice and heartbeat. Maybe if she could just convince him of that, how much she really was attracted to him, then she might not have to go any farther. Victor could tell that she was telling the truth, but that truth didn't make any sense to him.

"Why?" he demanded.

"I might never get the chance to … " There was enough truth in the statement that Marie had to pause for a second to deal with her own emotions. "To touch anyone else like this again. Even if I do find someone brave enough to risk it, I don't think—I couldn't. Risk killing—"

Her voice broke off, and she had to look down. She swallowed a few times to get rid of the lump in her throat and blinked away the wetness in her eyes that she swore wasn't tears. This wasn't how she wanted this to go. She didn't want either of them to be sad. She just wanted to be happy, to touch a man she cared about, to make him feel good and to feel good herself. Like any other normal person could.

"I already put one boy in a coma, just because I kissed him," she said when her voice was steady again. "So I really can't risk touching people like this. But you, you're strong and you have a healing factor, and—"

Marie couldn't resist adding at least one compliment. She didn't want to pressure him into doing something he didn't want because he felt sorry for her, even if she was using more than a little emotional manipulation to get her way. To ease that, and her own conscience, she added:

"And you really are very attractive," she told him. "I feel safe with you too, and you've done a great job. I mean, you gave me two orgasms, but I want to see what a—" She had to stop again and gather her courage to say the next part. "What a male orgasm looks like. Um … please?"

Victor watched the way she bit her lip and looked up at him with big eyes. Marie was a good person. If she couldn't get control over her mutation, then she actually might spend her whole life celibate, without ever knowing sexual pleasure. He and James were the only two people who could provide that for her, but like a complete fucking moron, Jimmy had thrown that chance away. Now Victor thought about the situation. Maybe this didn't need to be a one time thing. If he pleasured Marie enough now, she might ask for him again. Might use him to explore all her sexual fantasies, and Victor was a ready and very much willing volunteer.

He shuffled over and laid down on his back next to her. Marie tried not to let out a too loud sigh of relief. Her bed was small enough that their thighs touched, Victor still fully dressed with his cock pulled out, and her still in her dress, pantyhose, and elbow-length gloves. Clearly they were both overdressed, but she didn't want to start anything until she heard Victor give his consent.

"Take off those stupid fucking gloves," he said roughly.

"I should use these to gag you for being so rude," Marie muttered, only half-teasing.

His cock caught her eye again when it gave an obvious twitch. Victor kept his face blank, like his body hadn't just betrayed a predilection for being tied up and _used_. Marie mercifully pretended like she didn't notice, although she did file that information away for later as she pulled off her gloves.

"One thing," Victor said. "James will never forgive us if we actually fuck."

"If Logan's so concerned about your dick, then he can suck it himself." Marie growled out, sounding almost feral herself. "And after hurting me and letting me down so many times, he's lost all claim on me as anything more than a friend, and honestly, even that's iffy at this point."

But on the other hand … Marie took another glance at Victor's cock, its enormous size very nearly bordering on satire. With enough lube and determination, she figured she could probably get it inside her, but definitely not today. Not when small-sized tampons were her only previous experience.

"I uh, don't exactly have condoms here either," she admitted. "So yeah, no actual sex. But other than that, is there anything else you're not okay with? Do you need a safeword?"

Victor slowly raised his eyebrow. "A safeword."

Marie tossed her gloves at his face in retaliation for his amused expression. "Yes, considering we're both pretty messed up and could accidentally kill each other, I think a safeword is a good idea."

Victor gave a curt nod in response to that, but he didn't offer up a suggestion of his own.

"I thought we could use the traffic light system instead of one word," she said, starting off a little nervous but beginning to gain confidence. "Because I just can't take safewords seriously. If you shout out _pineapple_ during sex, I'll definitely stop, but I'll probably be too busying laughing to help you with your flashback or dysphoria or whatever."

He watched her as she talked, his mood wavering between amused and impressed. The pineapple thing made him snort, but the flashback and dysphoria talk hit a little too close to home. If a safeword would make his mate feel safer though, he would go along with it.

"So green is go, yellow is slow down, and red is stop," Marie said.

"Why doesn't stop mean stop?" Victor asked.

"For red stop, I thought that could mean stop the sex stuff. But you're right, saying stop is really serious, so if I say that, I mean we have to stop completely and maybe even get a few feet away from each other." She caught sight of his slightly wounded look and added, "Like if my skin turned on or I had a really bad flashback. Being touched when something like that happens is … really bad for me."

"All right. If you say stop, I'll stop and give you some space," Victor promised.

Marie gave him a small smile at that. "Thank you. Anyway, enough of the depressing talk."

"Just tell me what you want, Stripes," he immediately agreed.

She glanced over him, unable to keep her smile from turning into an eager grin. She had possibly _the_ hottest man in the world laying beneath her, all hers to do with whatever she wanted.

And Marie wanted a lot of things.

* * *

**A/N: This is late, but only because on my agenda today has been: two papers at a symposium, a test, two presentations, and a reading essay. So I just completely forgot about this, but I have the chapter for Friday about halfway done now and nothing to do tomorrow, so this fic will definitely get updated on time!**


	4. Chapter 4

"All these clothes," Marie waved her hand at Victor, still fully dressed. "I want them off"

Victor tried to hold back a sour expression. He wasn't exactly comfortable being naked. At least not in this type of situation. While killing or running wild through the woods, he didn't give a shit. He'd never cared what any hooker thought of him either. He didn't pay them to have opinions.

But he cared about what Marie thought of him. He knew his size scared people. Or maybe it was just something inherent about Victor himself. James was shorter, but he had an equal number of muscles and killed just as many people. He still managed to pull in all kinds of frails though, whereas most women knew to avoid Victor. The older feral hated how much thick body hair covered just about everything below his neck. As if he didn't feel like enough of an animal already.

"Please?" Marie asked.

For his mate, Victor sat up to take his shirt off. He really didn't want to find out how far he would go for her. Marie reached out and stopped him.

"Can I?" Her fingers shyly touched the top button of his shirt. "I want to undress you."

"Yeah."

Victor's voice sounded rough, almost hoarse when it came out. His little mate asked him so sweetly, and her touch was … soft. He wasn't used to soft. But Marie's hands went slow and gentle as she unbuttoned his shirt, which he didn't understand at all because his cock was already out. She had what she wanted from him, she didn't need to bother with this nicey-nice shit.

He shrugged off the shirt when she finished with the buttons and she went for the hem of his wifebeater next. Once she had his chest bare, Marie sat back on her heels and admired him. He looked like one of those ridiculously well-muscled anatomy figures combined with a male model. She skirted his cock to lightly touch the waistband of his pants.

"These too," she said.

"If you take off those goddamn—"

Victor made a pissy gesture at the pantyhose covering her legs. He'd hated that shit ever since it was invented. Snagged on his claws every damn time.

"Grumpy cat," Marie blurted out.

He froze. " … that never leaves this room."

She bit back a grin and nodded, then began stripping off the pantyhose to please him. Victor shoved his pants and boxers off by the time she looked back up, and she gave him a disappointed pout.

"I wanted to do that," she told him.

"I'll let you do it next time," he replied.

She flashed him a smile instead of correcting him, and Victor held onto the thought that maybe there would be a next time for this, for them. He waited for her to tell him more of what she wanted, but she sat on the bed, seemingly waiting for him.

"How about the dress too," he asked huskily.

Marie gave a mock huff. She'd accepted his lack of self-preservation by now, but she still felt like she should try to instill a little bit of it into him. At the very least, she should try to be responsible about not hurting him with her mutation or accidentally getting any more glimpses into his mind.

"You're just determined to get yourself knocked out, aren't you?"

Victor smirked at her in return. "Darlin', I'm not planning on either of us having the strength to move after this for a good long while."

Marie felt herself blush from his dirty leer, and she busied herself with pulling off her dress. The arm sleeves were tight though, and she struggled with it for a few moments before letting out a much angrier huff and glancing over her shoulder at him beseechingly. Victor unzipped the back of the dress, dragging the backs of his fingers over her skin for a few brief touches. He accidentally let a low growl slip out as the zipper came down to her lower back with still no sign of a bra strap. The thought that he could have pulled down the collar of her dress and gotten his mouth on her breasts during the party last night urged him to lean forward and lick up the back of her neck possessively.

"Vic … "

At her breathy moan, Victor wrapped a thick forearm around her and pulled her flush against his chest. Her dress bunched up around her front protected his arm, and his thick chest hair provided a barrier against the skin of her back. But his mouth licked and sucked at the spot where her neck and shoulder met, fangs scraping light marks that identified her as _his_. Marie leaned back against him and felt his cock push against her lower back even through the folds of her dress.

"Just get my dress off," she pleaded with him.

"I'm planning on getting us both off, baby doll," Victor purred back.

Marie's lips quirked up, and she dared to tease him. "Yeah? You sure have been a lot of innuendo and big talk so far."

"You've been a lot of 'oh Victor, please' and 'those orgasms felt so good'." Victor nipped at her neck a little harder and dragged his tongue over the mark. "So you better watch that mouth of yours before I put it to better use."

"Can we do that?" Marie jerked forward and twisted around to look at him. "Please? I wanna do that."

Victor stared at her. "You want to … "

"Well if you get this damn dress off," Marie huffed.

Victor immediately reached out and used his claws to rip through the flimsy fabric. It slid off of her and pooled around her tucked up legs on the bed. Marie looked down at the ruined dress and back up at Victor in a brief moment of shock, and then she sighed.

"I put the dress between you and a blowjob," she said, part in real exasperation and part in amusement. "I don't know what else I expected to happen."

For the first time in a long time, Victor felt himself blush. He didn't want to seem like an eager little teenager. This was just sex after all. He was supposed to be the adult in this situation and the man, the one supposed to stay in control and guide her. He had no idea why she even wanted to give him a blowjob in the first place, aside from the possibility of her naïve ignorance. Maybe she'd read one too many trashy romance novels, but she'd learn pretty soon that giving a blowjob wasn't anything to get excited about.

"So you really want to suck my dick?" Victor asked.

Marie grinned. She could always trust him to be completely blunt and brutally honest about any situation.

"I'm not going to do this halfway," Marie told him. "I want to touch, to taste, to _feel_."

Victor nodded. He still thought she had a pretty rosy view of how giving a blowjob would go for her, but damn if he wouldn't let her try it out on him to her little heart's content. He laid down on the bed so she could have full access to him. Marie stared down at all of the hairy muscle and hard flesh presented. It amazed her that she could have and touch the man in front of her.

For his part, Victor laid as still as he could and tried not to fidget. Sabretooth did not fidget. Her scrutiny made him uncomfortable. He already knew he looked like an animal. Between the thick layer of body hair bordering on fur, his claws and fangs, and his ridged penis, all he needed were ears and a tail to look like those weaboo fuckwit furries who loved dressing up like part-animals without any real consequences. But he shook that off to watch his mate as she picked the dress up off her lap and tossed it aside. Marie noticed his gaze focused between her legs.

"Do you … " She paused and bit her lip. "Do you like?"

It seemed like a very juvenile question to her, but she'd already asked it. A sexy woman—what she imagined as a _real_ woman—wouldn't have to ask a man if he "liked." But Victor relaxed at the question. She was nervous too, and he could make her feel better.

"Marie, your pussy is so sweet, I should have said grace before I ate it," Victor said with a wide grin.

Marie gaped down at him in shock before she finally spluttered, "Victor Creed, you're the only man on Earth bad enough to get yourself sent to Hell for praying!"

But her voice was light, and she let out a little laugh at the end of it to match Victor's cheshire cat grin. She braced her hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss him. Victor hadn't expected the kiss and didn't do much more than allow the contact to happen, but his inner animal purred in contentment at the intimacy with their mate. Marie moved back after just a moment though and pulled up a sheet between their bodies. Victor hadn't noticed her mutation draining him any, but he didn't have much time to think about it before she kissed him again. This time their lips slotted together more firmly and she draped her body over his.

"Color?" Marie asked when she broke the kiss again.

"I'm green, but my balls are turning blue," Victor answered. "Are you really going to do something about it?"

His voice softened for that question, and the backs of his fingers trailed lightly down her arm, his claws ducked safely against his palm.

"Yeah," Marie breathed.

She gave him a quick kiss and then wriggled down the bed to put her head at the level of his chest. The sheet was only pulled up to cover his pecs, so she started by placing quick kisses along his shoulder. Victor closed his eyes and relaxed into the sensation of her mouth on him, her tongue laving over his skin as she grew bolder. He couldn't bring himself to bear his throat to her despite his animal's protests that he was being paranoid, but he laid still for her and didn't protest when she tugged down the sheet a few inches to continue farther.

"Can I touch your nipples?" she asked.

Victor stared down at her with a slight frown. "Why?"

"Because I want to touch you places," Marie said as she blushed a little. "And uh, see what happens."

"Sure."

It wasn't exactly the enthusiastic response she wanted, but Victor laid his head back down in acquiescence. When he hired prostitutes, he just stuck his dick in one of their holes. There wasn't much foreplay involved past giving them time to stretch and lube themselves, and that was for the purely practical reason that his cock wouldn't fit otherwise. His increased libido meant he didn't need much—sometimes not anything at all—to get hard. At first he had paid extra for them to pretend to actually be interested in him and even tried to pleasure the girls in return, but he could hear the lie in the beat of their hearts and in the fear in their scents.

It didn't take long for him to realize no matter of money or foreplay would be enough to make up for his monstrous mutation.

Marie combed her fingers through his thick chest hair, and despite the dark turn of his thoughts, Victor had to resist the urge to purr at the attention. When her fingertips found his nipple, he exhaled harshly through his nose at the unexpected pleasure. She rubbed her thumb over the hardening nub, and he deliberately evened his breathing and tried to concentrate on not moaning like a bitch. Then she dipped her head down and licked across where her thumb had been, and his entire body tensed up. She almost worried she'd done something wrong, but her mutation flipped on and gave her a rush of secondhand pleasure.

She licked him more firmly, enjoying the buzz it gave her and the small noises building in the back of his throat. Her lips closed around his nipple, trying to get more contact, more of that pleasure transferring from him to her. She broke the contact only for a second to switch over to his other nipple, and a low groan burst out of him. Now his right nipple felt cold, hard and slick with her saliva. Marie caught that stray thought and raised her hand to it, fumbling a bit inexpertly to flick her thumb over the neglected flesh.

"Marie … ungh, fuck, Marie!"

She lifted her head at the urgency in his voice, and Victor's bright golden eyes stared down at her. His fangs pressed against his lower lip, and his long hair pulled back in a professional tie had started to come undone and fall around his face. Marie had truly meant it when she called him beautiful. She didn't think she'd ever seen anything more awe-inspiring than Victor Creed aroused and desperate, all because of her.

"If you don't get your goddamn mouth on my cock, I'm going to shoot off all over your bedsheets," Victor growled at her.

Marie whimpered, and the sound made his hips jerk upwards. Victor swore his vision was starting to black out with how badly he wanted to hear that whimpering noise with her lips wrapped around his cock. She yanked the sheet off and moved down to kneel between his legs, and he had to reach up to grip the headboard so he wouldn't push her head down.

His cock and abs were smeared with pre-cum, and Marie watched as a drop slid down his length. Victor's loud growl of impatient need spurred her into action, and she bent down to lick up the drop. He threw his head back against the pillow with a strangled groan, barely able to keep from bucking up into her face. Her tongue lapped up the pre-cum leaking from his tip, and Victor gave up all pretense of being stoic with a loud moan.

"M'rie!" he snarled out.

She closed her mouth around the tip and sucked, and Victor's hands tightened around the headboard. The wood gave an ominous creaking sound, but he refused to buck his hips up and risk choking his little mate. His sweet mate who touched him softly and said nice things and let him touch her. Victor's groans had turned into noises halfway between a growl and a purr, and fully feral. Marie took in more at a slow pace, doing her own best not to accidentally choke herself. His eyes squeezed shut as his balls tightened up and he felt his orgasm building.

Then the doorknob jiggled. Through his pleasure, Victor managed to remember he'd locked the door last night, but it didn't sound like that would stop the person on the other side much longer. He reached down to Marie's head in what would have been an effort to pull her up, but Logan kicked down the door before that happened.

Marie raised her head on her own to take a glance at the other enraged feral. Logan stared at her in confused disbelief, his claws already extended from his hands which now hung futilely at his sides. She considered him for a moment before ducking her head to swallow Victor's cock back down and resume sucking him off.

Victor looked straight into Logan's eyes as he came down the back of Marie's throat with a triumphant snarl.

* * *

**A/N: Yaaaaaaas, cliffhanger, yassssss. I'm just really enjoying being evil today. But I'm allowed because tomorrow is my 21st birthday! So please leave me lots of reviews as a birthday present, and to let me know how you think things are/should go with Logan in the next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

Marie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave Logan a nonchalant look. "Is there a reason why you're in my room?"

"You—he—" Logan stopped and changed tracks. "Are you all right? Is he …" An almost hopeful look came over him. "Is he making you—"

Victor gave a weak growl of protest, but he was still feeling a little woozy from how hard he'd just came. Marie on the other hand, outright yelled at the other feral.

"Don't!" she snapped at him. "I'm here because I'm single and a human being who happens to enjoy being touched."

"Marie," Logan tried to start, but she just talked over him.

"I like Victor, and you know what, I really like what he just did for me," Marie continued.

Logan flinched back and sneered at that. "You're just spite-fucking him because he's my brother."

A low snarl emanated from Victor that Logan started to return, but their Alpha male posturing got cut off by the sheer rage in Marie's voice.

"Oh my god," she yelled. "You stupid, ignorant … jar of mayonnaise! I'm surprised you could pull your mouth off Jean's clit long enough to say that!"

Victor settled back down against the pillow, sufficiently convinced that his mate was about to verbally tear Logan a new one. And if she wanted to do that physically too, he'd be more than happy to hold the runt down for her and do all the carving himself.

For his part, Logan stared at Marie in stunned silence, but she wasn't anywhere near finished yet.

"I'm fucking him because he's been nice to me," she told him. "Do you know how many people have actually been nice to me?"

Logan opened his mouth, but Marie didn't give him a chance to answer.

"None!" she replied. "Everyone is afraid of me or hates me for taking the cure."

"Haven't I been—"

Once again, Logan didn't get a chance to defend himself, this time because Victor sat up and cut him off.

"No, James, you fucking haven't," he snarled. "You want proof? Her skin was off before you came in and now …"

Victor moved his hand slowly toward Marie's shoulder, more in deference to her than out of any sort of caution against provoking Logan to attack. Marie allowed him to place the flat of his palm against her bare shoulder, and they both felt it when her mutation began draining him. He left his hand there long enough for most of his arm to go pale so Logan could see the affect. Marie got a steady inflow of his surface thoughts, mostly how much he genuinely wanted to _hurt_ his little brother for hurting her first. Then he let go.

"You got control over it?" Logan asked lowly.

Marie shook her head, just as shocked at him at realizing that her skin really had been off while she touched Victor.

"She didn't know," Victor answered for her. "And she didn't turn it back on now because she's pissed at you. It's unconscious. You know what that fucking means, Jimmy? On a subconscious level, she doesn't trust you not to _hurt her_."

Logan stared at them for a moment, a sick feeling sinking deep in his stomach. He already regretted accusing Marie of being the sort of person to spite-fuck, and now he had to face the fact that she wasn't over-exaggerating or trying to get back at him. Something he'd done—probably several somethings, if he was being completely honest with himself—had hurt her on a deep level, made even worse by the fact that he'd sworn to protect her. That's what his intentions had been when he came in here, to make sure that Marie was okay. But maybe that wasn't his job. Maybe he'd failed her or maybe he never should have made that promise at all.

Marie broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "I'm not trying to hurt you, and I know you never meant to hurt me. Victor has been a good friend, and he's made me feel safe, and this—" She gestured between the two of them, obviously encompassing what they'd just done. "Is something I want and should be able to have. And, um … do you want to sit down?"

Logan blinked, cleared his throat, and then finally pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can you just put some damn clothes on? I'll listen to whatever you gotta get off your chest, just cover it up first."

Marie nodded and got up. She didn't try to cover up her nakedness, partly because it seemed rather moot at this point, but also out of some sort of inner fairness. She'd seen the inside of both of their minds in a way that no one else could, without their knowledge or permission. Trying to act offended or embarrassed that Logan had seen her naked—and also sucking dick, as it were—would be hypocritical, especially since her dreams had occasionally starred memories of his own sexual conquests, and she hadn't exactly been complaining about that.

Meanwhile, Logan and Victor had a short staring contest. If Logan stepped further into the room to sit in the chair at her desk, that would put the two of them closer together, and they both recognized that if they got within a certain distance of each other, throats would be slashed and organs would be ripped out.

Plus Victor's cock was still at least half-hard, and that was really pissing Logan off. The older feral knew it and smirked, proud of the fact that it was his cock that had Marie's scent and saliva all over it.

"Just sit down, Logan," Marie called from within her closet. "And stop aggravating him Victor!"

Logan smirked back at Victor, much like the little brother that he was, smug that he wasn't the one being chastised. Victor sneered back but waited to get up until Logan sat down. By the time Marie came back out wearing sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt, Victor had pulled back on his boxers and his undershirt.

With all three of them dressed now, maybe they could talk. Marie sat down on the bed, drawing her feet up to sit cross-legged. That left only Victor standing. He leaned back against the wall like he didn't care, but when Marie patted the bed next to her, he immediately moved to sit down where she indicated. Logan tensed up at that, the two of them sitting together with him on the opposite side.

"What'd I do?" he asked straight out.

"Fucking figure it out, Jimmy," Victor snapped back.

Marie touched his side, careful to only touch his undershirt and not his bare skin. The contact still calmed him though, and he fell silent to let her speak.

"You weren't there for me," she told Logan. "Literally, you stood me up and blew me off in ways that a friend wouldn't. And figuratively, you never really listened to my problems."

Logan started to speak, but she held up her hand.

"I'll admit that my problems were teenage girl problems, and I had a really embarrassing crush on you that must have made you uncomfortable. Fuck, I'm uncomfortable thinking of it now. But I listened when you talked and stuck around when you didn't or when you yelled and cursed and had screaming nightmares."

Logan grimaced at that and Marie kept going.

"And I had all of that too, but you never asked about any of it because you never cared enough to see past yourself and your problems or to see me at all as anything other than just 'kid' even though I'm one of two people in this world who went through the same shit and can actually _understand_ and you just fucking blew me off and treated me like a stupid little kid and kept fucking the woman who's spent the last three years making my life miserable!"

The room was silent again by the time Marie finished, but the silence echoed with the force of the words she'd yanked out of herself and yelled at him.

"Jean's been messing with you?" Logan finally asked.

"That's what you got out of that?" Victor demanded on Marie's behalf.

Logan glared at him. "I'm taking this one issue at a time here."

"Yes," Marie answered. "I—god, Logan. Literally everyone knows she hates me. I thought you did too, and you just …" She swallowed down the words _didn't care_. "I don't know if it makes me feel better or worse that you never even noticed because you're so—"

She held her tongue again because Logan was starting to look sheepish and guilty enough already. She'd meant it when she said she didn't want to hurt him, but Victor hadn't made any such promise, and he took up the mantle for her.

"Stupid," he finished. "Because you're so fucking stupid, James."

For once, Logan didn't argue back with that. He still wasn't happy about the circumstances under which he found out all of this, but he was at least man enough to admit when he'd done fucked up real bad. And as uncomfortable as this was, he'd let Marie say what she needed to as part of his penance for breaking his promise.

"I'm not the only one you're hurting with that," Marie said. "Does Scott know you're fucking his wife?"

"He should, since I'm fucking him too," Logan replied with a deadpan expression.

Marie reacted by throwing her pillow at his head. He didn't bother to knock it aside and it hit him straight in the face.

"God!" Marie reached for another pillow, but she only had the one. "Fuck, Logan, give me back that one."

He defiantly held onto the pillow. "Are you gonna hit me with it again?"

"No, I'm going to hit him," she said with a huff.

Victor blinked and turned to stare at her. "The fuck did I do?"

"You know what you said," Marie told him, then pointed at Logan. "And you! Fucking a man's wife and the man himself! You two are just—you always—you're both incorrigible!"

Logan and Victor both felt it was better to stay silent, and they shared a look while they waited for Marie to calm down. Something occurred to Logan then, something Marie had said that he'd almost missed.

"What'd you mean when you said you were one of two people who could understand?" he asked.

Marie's attitude immediately went from exasperated to abashed. "Um …"

Victor caught on to what Logan had realized. "You said you went through the same shit that he did."

"Well," she hunkered down under the sudden focus from both brothers at once. "The thing is …"

They stared at her, noting the guilt that had crept into her scent. Suddenly it made sense why she'd been so willing to let Logan off the hook. Saying she didn't want to hurt him, yelling but not saying anything cruel, stopping Victor from attacking him—she'd fucked up and done something bad too.

Marie took a deep breath and decided to say it outright. "I've been keeping secrets from both of you …"

* * *

**A/N: Another cliffhanger, huzzah! And speaking of huzzah, a great big huzzah and thank you to everyone who left me a review for my birthday! I had a really great party with some close friends that involved Cards Against Humanity :D**

**So I've had a few requests to allow Logan to receive forgiveness and even acceptance into Victor and Marie's loving arms and various orifices. Right now, I'm writing this fic as SOLELY Victor x Marie, but I'm curious to know how many people would like this to be more OT3. If enough people leave reviews asking for it, I'll write an epilogue that allows Logan to get involved.**

**And I still hate Jean by the way, big surprise, but I'm actually kind of okay with a Jean x Logan x Scott pairing. I read a really good fic with them on adultfanfiction once that was very Scott-centric with lots of angst about how he falls in love with both and doesn't realize that's okay and blah blah blah Logan spanks him while Jean watches and it was really hot.**

**Anyway, enough with my ramblings. I hope everyone has a great weekend, and chapter six will be up next Friday!**


	6. Chapter 6

"What secrets have you been keeping, Marie?" Victor asked in a low voice.

"You been hiding stuff from us, darlin'?" Logan added.

Marie nodded and decided to own up to it straight out. "My mutation takes in life energy, other mutations, and a person's voice. Their … like, surface thoughts at the moment but also this sort of replica of them. Of their thoughts. Like if the voice in your head that you hear when you think got copy-pasted into my head too. Plus all your memories."

The two ferals both stayed silent and stared at her as they processed that. She had all their memories. Their childhoods, the wars, the sex, Weapon X, their private moments—everything. And she hadn't told them until now.

Logan spoke first. "You wanna explain why the _fuck_ you didn't tell me?"

"Well, I was unconscious for three days," Marie said. "The two of you don't exactly play nice, and you were both pissed about ending up in my mind. And Eric didn't make things any better, saying that—"

"Wait a second," Logan cut her off. "The two of us? Me and that dick?"

Victor sneered back at him in response, but Marie stepped in to explain.

"He gave me his healing factor," she told Logan. "He didn't know everything else would go with it. But it was his healing factor that brought me back to life. I mean, the machine killed me. Really killed me. That's why my mutation didn't activate the moment you touched me. I was already dead, but his mutation brought me back long enough for _my_ mutation to take _your_ mutation and finish healing me up."

"So nice to know he saved your life," Logan said sarcastically. "Sure was kind of him to do that after strapping you into the fucking machine in the first place. Let's throw him a goddamn ass-eating parade for his heroism."

To Marie's surprise, Victor didn't make a caustic reply. Instead, he sat silently on the bed, not making eye contact with either of them. Marie reached out for his hand and slipped her fingers between his.

"I know he's sorry about that," she said. "I'm not looking for apologies from either of you, especially with how … I understand if you're just as mad about me not telling you this sooner. But after I woke, you were so angry at Victor, and I didn't really understand what was happening myself, and Jean told me I should stop bothering you, so—"

This time it was a deep growl from both brothers that cut her off. Victor had never liked Jean, and Logan was just now realizing how badly she'd been treating Marie.

"No one else knows," Marie continued when the growls died down.

"If our voices are giving you trouble, Xavier could have helped you with that," Victor said.

Marie shook her head. "You've both settled down now. I uh, make the voices go in boxes. Compartmentalize. So I don't hear them and they don't bother me. That's what I did to Eric and Cody, that boy in the coma I told you about."

"We're not hurting you or nothin'?" Logan asked.

"Victor made himself a room, went inside, and he doesn't come out," Marie explained. "Like a cat hiding under the bed. He won't talk to me."

Logan grinned a little at that comparison and her pouty voice. Victor didn't correct her either. He knew damn well he had the personality of an asshole cat, and he liked it that way.

"You go in and out of your room more freely," she went on. "Sometimes you come out to offer commentary, tell me something I wouldn't know, or just to be a jerk—mostly to other people," she hurried to add. "The you in my head loves making smart ass remarks, and he isn't happy about me and Victor at all. He's still sulking in his room like a kicked puppy who was also left out in the rain and had to walk uphill both ways while it was snowing, and it's all very angsty in there."

The smirk fell off Logan's face and appeared on Victor's.

"Poor Jimmy-pup," he cooed at his little brother, smirking even wider at the growl that got him.

"Um, also," Marie drew their attention back to her. "Before the two of you start with this again, I want to say again that no one else know about this. I never told anyone, and I shoved all your memories inside your rooms too. You guys were meant to live for centuries. I think your minds are better at healing than most people, just like your bodies. Mine just cannot handle suddenly having nearly five hundred years of memories shoved into it, so I haven't ever looked through them. I promise I've tried to give you as much privacy as I possibly can."

"You've never looked at our memories?" Victor asked.

Logan added on too. "Ain't you, dunno, been curious or something?"

"Uh, no," Marie said. "No offense, but your lives have been fucking awful. I don't want to live through memories of what it was like before air conditioning and regular bathing. So I've never consciously touched your memories."

Victor immediately caught the deliberate use of that word. "Consciously?"

Marie grimaced. "Sometimes when I'm sleeping—it's harder to keep everything separate then. I'll get a flashback or a nightmare. Or if I feel threatened, I suddenly know how to take someone down and where my exit point is and how many rounds each different type of handgun has. So that's really useful."

She tried to end it on a positive note, let them know that they helped her sometimes, but both of them had turned somber again at her mention of nightmares. She'd said she went through the exact same shit that Logan did, those screaming nightmares that drove him to physically exhaust himself before he went to sleep so that he'd be too tired to dream. And the ways that he exhausted himself weren't things young college students with bright futures should know about. The attempts to find a drug that would fucking _work_, the bar fights and cage matches, the sex—Logan winced when that occurred to him. He wasn't embarrassed but he'd done some dirty shit that he didn't want floating around in Marie's mind.

"You get my nightmares?" he asked in a gruff voice.

Marie gave a tiny nod, her hand squeezing Victor's a little bit tighter for comfort.

Victor looked down at her. "Mine too?"

"Not very often," she said by way of an answer. Victor kept staring at her, and she knew he wouldn't let it go, so she admitted in a quiet voice, "They're the worst."

Logan glanced over at Victor in surprise. He had to admit, he'd been so focused on finding out about Victor's involvement in Weapon X and what that'd done to him, that he hadn't really taken the time to consider what sort of horrible shit might have happened in his brother's life. Learning that they were brothers had jogged a few memories and now some fuzzy remembrances filtered in every once in a while to give him a vague idea of what his life had been like, but he hadn't put forth too much effort to remember Victor. The man was just such an asshole, Logan figured that's the way it had always been. The older brother picks on the younger brother, beats him up sometimes, never shows any remorse. He wasn't prepared to find out that there could be another side to the story.

"Logan's dreams are more physical." Marie wasn't looking at them anymore. She seemed lost inside herself now that she'd started talking about it. "Pain and sex. Fighting. Killing. Driving a motorcycle with no destination and running free in the woods. Victor's are more psychological. Being hated and dehumanized and left alone forever. A real forever, without anything or anyone familiar. Seven billion people and none of them care."

"You don't need to worry about that," Victor said softly, squeezing her hand.

He would always stay with his mate. And Marie was a good person. People liked her. She could make friends and fall in love and start a family. Victor would still watch over her. He'd almost killed her, so it was a fitting penance for him to watch over her life after he no longer had a place in it. No matter what happened, he'd keep her safe and comfortable. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with his money or his life.

Marie shook her head and gave him a slightly watery smile. Her skin wasn't on, but she swore she could feel his emotions. His devotion to her, even if he hadn't said it out loud. Even if his voice in her head was convinced he needed to keep himself locked up to protect her from his mind. But she couldn't realistically expect him to chain himself down to her and watch her grow old. He'd been through enough suffering without going through that too. It was time to tell her last secret.

"I'm leaving."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, this is kind of a short one. I'll have another chapter after this to wrap everything up, explain where Marie's going, and get a few more things said between the three of them. Due to popular demand, this story will stay strictly Rocter, and I promise it will have a happy ending epilogue with several … ahem … "happy endings."**

**Let me know what your guesses are for where Marie is going and why!**


	7. Author's Note

Hey, everyone, this is the author speaking here. There won't be an update this week because I have to go to a lucheon and awards ceremony today, which totally through off my schedule. The good news is that I won two scholarships for next semester though! I'll put the next chapter up next week, but I just got too swamped to get it done in time this week. I hope you all understand, and good luck to everyone who has finals approaching!


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